Impressions
by Obsessed Authoress
Summary: Interaction in different ways, places, and times leave them changed by each other. For better or worse, they won't look at the world the same way ever again. A collection of drabbles from each character's perspective about the others. Chpt. 2: Abigail.
1. Riley

A/N- Okay, I have _no idea_ where this came from. I swear. I don't even usually write fanfiction for movies, but I was watching _NT_ a week or so ago and this idea just popped into my head: a short collection of oneshot/drabbles from the POVs of the four main characters, regarding what they think/thought of the other characters. And...here's the first chapter. Why is Riley's chapter first? ...Because Riley is my favorite. Duh. XD Hopefully to follow soon: chapters for Ben, Abigail, and Ian. Heh. Keep your fingers crossed... Hope you enjoy! -OA

A/N 2- I forgot to mention (though I'm sure you'll all figure it out) that this fic is based off the first movie. And just to clear up any confusion, the character whose name is in the chapter title is the one thinking about the other characters. I.e., (for this chapter) Riley thinking about Abigail, Ben, and Ian. The other chapters will follow the same format. I hope it makes sense! Enjoy! -OA

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**Impressions**

_By ObsessedAuthoress_

Disclaimer: I don't own _National Treasure_, or the various quotes of dialogue from the movie that appear below.

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_**Riley**_

_::Abigail::_

Maybe a tiny part of him resented it, being shoved aside in a way. After Ian revealed his big-bad-guy persona, it was just him and Ben. And he didn't mind it like that, because they worked well together. They were friends, and together they pulled off some crazy stuff.

Um. Declaration of Independence? Need he say more?

But then she was there, all bright and golden and smarter than he was about a lot of things. Smart like Ben. So alike, those two, and he suddenly found himself on the sidelines, outside looking in.

It got worse from there, 'cause he would never admit it to anyone, but he's always kind of had a crush on her. Ever since that first day, when they walked into her office and saw that blond head tilted to the side as she finished up her phone call, those dark blue eyes intent on her work and then on them, taking in details and forming conclusions.

"_Hello...Bill__." _

So strong, and intelligent, and relatively unfazed by the tornado of events that followed. Her determination. All of it's attractive to him.

And that's as far as it goes, just a confession within his own mind, because Riley doesn't _do _crushes on other people's girls. Especially his best friend's girl.

So when he stares at them in mock disgust, standing on the verdant lawn of their beautiful, historical home (_because it's _Ben_, therefore it _has_ to be historical_), and says, _"What do you care? You got the girl,"_ he's only _slightly_ bitter_. _Just slightly. A smidgen. Only a teensy-weensy bit.

…But he doesn't crush on other people's girls.

He _doesn't_.

_::Ben::_

It's not really too much of a stretch to say that Ben's more than just his best friend.

Ben is his _savior_.

The idea of sitting in a window-less cubicle all day, five days a week, doing nothing but tapping keys for the same repetitive commands, over and over and over again… It makes him shudder just to think back on how dead-ended his life was.

Until Ben showed up. Found him. Gave him options. Befriended him. Made him a part of a world that was vast and mysterious and exciting, full of clue-hunting, arctic excavations, and buried treasure. It was like every little boy's wildest dream come true.

Of course, the whole _"I'm going to steal it. I'm going to steal the Declaration of Independence"_ bit was like stepping into shallow water, only to have the ocean floor drop out from under his feet. He could only laugh for a moment, and then splutter, and then race after his friend (_savior_) in a mad panic, horrified to realize that Ben was in fact, deadly serious.

Truthfully, he should have been terrified for _himself_, for that threat of a life in prison hanging over his head. But he wasn't, not really. Well. Maybe subconsciously, but the rest of his mind was devoted to wondering what went on in _Ben's_. Because Ben didn't seem concerned about it.

"_This is huge. Prison-huge. You _are_ gonna go to prison; you know that, right?"_

"_Yeah, probably."_

"_Well…that would…bother most people." _

What made someone like Benjamin Franklin Gates decide to abandon the remaining shreds of his reputation, his life, his work, for the preservation of a centuries-old parchment that _might_ have an invisible treasure map on the back?

It turned out alright in the end; even if he gripes about his share, that lovely, candy-apple red Ferrari is certainly nothing to sneeze at, even if he can't drive it to save his life. But before the end was reached, it was the journey along the way that revealed the answer to his musings, his study of the man who liberated him and then become his best friend.

_Honor. Courage. Integrity. Devotion. Loyalty. _

"_It means, if there's something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action."_

…It's just something Ben would do.

_::Ian::_

He'd like to say that he saw it coming, pierced the genial façade at some point, saw through the nice-guy routine.

Only he didn't, really. He's just as shocked to witness Shaw pull that gun at Ian's order as Ben is. It's like his brain stutters for a moment, grinding to an incredulous halt over the situation, and then he's flashing back to the first time he met Ian (_and Ben, but it's Ian who's calling the shots now, isn't it, and he can't say that he likes where this is going_).

He had just come back from his lunch-break, a small, too-short reprieve in the middle of an interminable day where he accomplished _nothing_ of any meaning whatsoever, and there they were. Tall and well-dressed and looking rather out-of-place in his tiny workspace. The dark-haired one was standing there waiting for him, shook his hand when he walked in, and immediately started in on the proposition, which was soon to blow his mind.

And the blond just sat there on the edge of Riley's pitiful desk, leaning back on both hands with both legs crossed at the ankles. It was a posture of confidence, nonchalance, and it wasn't like there was anything wrong with that, but… That smirk, hovering just on the edges of a full mouth, and the way pale blue eyes seemed to calculate too intently, adding up information for an equation no one else knew about.

Any faint sense of unease was banished by elation, being free of his old job and starting on this new venture with the brunet (_Ben_) and the blond (_traitor-thief-Ian-con-man-jerk_) and the rest of their company. He barely even remembered that wariness hovering in the background, inexplicable hints of _not-right_ and _dangerous_, too subtle for him to pick up on.

As Ben throws him into the smuggler's hold of _The Charlotte _and scrambles in after him, he barely has time to berate himself for not reading the signs before there's a deafening _BOOM _all around them and everything goes white(_er_).

"_Ian's here…" _

"_I _hate_ that guy."

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A/N- There ya go! Hope it wasn't OOC on anyone's part...? Like I said, hopefully the other three chapters will be up in a timely fashion. If anyone has a preference as to whether Ben or Abigail comes next (sorry, Ian's reserved for last) than...let me know in a review! XD Yes, yes, now you understand, it's a ploy to get you to review...no, seriously... Hope it was good! Thanks! -OA_  
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	2. Abigail

A/N- Hey, guys! Wow, an update in less than a week? How lucky are you? Trust me, I'm not usually this prompt. ...Yeah, I know you're all _really_ encouraged now, right? :P Anyway, I decided to write Abigail's chapter next; it just seemed to come quicker than Ben's was. (It's a good thing Ian's going to be last, 'cause I haven't even started him yet. O_o) I know the tenses kind of switch around between drabbles; it was kind of on purpose, and kind of just how the chapter wrote itself...idk. Hope it's not confusing. Thanks to all you guys who reviewed, subscribed, and faved! *blows kisses* Enjoy the next installment! -OA

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Disclaimer: No. Just no.

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_**Abigail**_

_::Ben::_

It was the words that got her, right from the start. Only, it wasn't just the words, really. It was the way he said them, too: quiet, calm, and absolutely certain. He was unfailingly polite at their first meeting, despite the bizarreness of what he had to say and the disbelief with which she replied.

"…_A treasure map?" _

"_Yes, ma'am." _

And even though she knew he was crazy (_he was, wasn't he? He _had_ to be_), a small part of her mind couldn't help thinking about the encounter afterwards, wondering about the tall, stranger with the serious blue eyes. He had sounded so sure when he spoke, hesitant only because he knew she wouldn't believe him.

Determined to try anyway.

Even so, it was just one meeting. She might have put it out of her mind if it wasn't for that night on the Capitol…and of course the missing campaign button from her George Washington collection that he'd sent her as a present. _That _had been enough to arouse her curiosity anew. But seeing him again at the gala, it was like all her senses were acutely sharpened, tuned to him in the hope that he would try and mystify her once more.

He didn't disappoint.

"_Here's to the men who did what was considered wrong, in order to do what they knew was right…what they _knew_ was right." _

The resolve in that gaze sent a little shiver down her spine, tickled in the back of her brain as if to say, _Pay attention, Abigail. You're going to want to remember this later._

And then she watched, bemused, as he knocked back a whole glass of champagne.

He was, she decided, one of the oddest men she'd ever met. It just got better from there, of course, though somehow along the way, _oddest_ turned into something more like _intelligent-courageous-caring-strong-unwavering_ and a thousand other things that she couldn't even begin to name.

But it was the words. Always the words.

"_People don't really talk that way, you know?" _

"_I know…but they think that way." _

_::Ian::_

He's dangerous.

She kicks and screams her protest, clutching at the rolled-up parchment in her hands as the two strange men grab her and drag her toward their vehicle. _"Just bring her!" _she hears someone call out, the accented voice impatient. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of its owner, leaning out of the back of the service van, but she's too busy trying to get away to really pay attention.

-Until the doors close behind her, wheels skidding against pavement beneath her, and she's face-to-face with her kidnapper.

"_And just who might you be?" _

Condescension seeps in between the words, accompanied by a barely hidden half-smirk as he looks her up and down appreciatively. She can't help but do the same for him, though more covertly, as she stands frozen, all the warning bells in her head shrieking. Blue eyes sharper than knives, set in a tan, clean-shaven face, framed by too-yellow hair: bottle-blonde. But rather than detract, it somehow adds to his perilous aura. _He's dangerous. Run, Abigail, run. _

Only she can't.

"_Why don't you just pass me that document? Then we can all go home."_

And she can't do _that_ either, no way. She just _knows_ that it would be like handing matches to an arsonist; the havoc he'll wreak… She shakes her head, mouth pressed into a thin line, and holds the Declaration to her chest. She doesn't care what he tries to do to her. She's _not_ letting it go.

Then the van is almost airborne for a second, quickly coming down with a muted crash in time to hit a series of bumps and potholes that probably have _Construction Work: Do Not Pass_ written all over them. The blond and his henchman are tossed around the van's interior as pots, pans, and equipment come raining down on them, while she shrinks into a corner, trying to stay on her feet amid the confusion.

Slim fingers close around the handle of the van door.

_Dangerous, he's dangerous, Abigail. Run, RUN. _

She gives a desperate tug and is suddenly flying out into the dark D.C. night, toward freedom (_or death, at this rate_), the lights and sounds a blur as she careens away from sharp blue eyes and the threat they carry.

…Later, much later, when they (_herself, with Riley, and Patrick Gates, and Ben, who just kissed her, isn't that strange, but she liked it, and Ian and his companions_) are half-a-dozen stories beneath Trinity Church, she watches Shaw plummet to his death at the bottom of the ancient elevator shaft.

She sees the horror and rage and pain flare in the blue eyes that watch as well, blood draining from golden skin and a cry of despair rising from full lips.

She stares down the barrel of his gun, even though it's really pointing at Riley.

She hears the cruel satisfaction in his farewell as he disappears from sight, leaving them behind to rot (_or so he thinks, but Ben is smarter than he is_) in a deep, dusty tomb._ "Then I'll know right where to find you,"_ he says maliciously.

And in that moment, she's indescribably grateful that she has Ben and Patrick and Riley with her (_together they can work their way out of anything, she's certain_), because-

_Ian. Dangerous. _

_::Riley::_

If someone were ever to make a movie about their lives, about this wild, crazy adventure they're on, she thinks Riley would be the comic relief character.

It sounds a little mean to say it like that; she's not trying to make fun of him. It's just that a lot of the things he says are genuinely amusing to her. The only reason she doesn't take more time to appreciate his humor (_though he probably never intends to be funny_) is because they're usually in the process of running, or hiding, or clue-solving.

But he wouldn't be _just _comic relief, she'll freely admit. He's _smart_, smart about things where she's only adequate.

"_Riley? Do you know how to get in touch with Ian?" _

"_Riley's right here, doing something clever with a computer." _

It's impressive, what he can do. Someday (_if they ever get out of this mess without losing their jobs, or their lives, let alone with treasure in hand_) she'll convince Ben to tell her how they managed to steal the Declaration. She only has a vague idea of how it was even possible, but she's sure that Riley had a sizeable role in the schematics of it.

Smart, and funny, and…pretty cute, though she'd never tell anyone that she thinks so. She considers him a good friend already, and they've only been together for a few days. Maybe, if it weren't for-

-If it weren't for _Ben_…

Oh well. In another life, perhaps. She knows that the pull she feels toward Riley is nothing compared to the pull she feels toward Ben (_at least, in a romantic way_), but under different circumstances, they could have had something.

It doesn't bother her, though. She's more than content (_though sometimes she wonders if Riley feels the same way: content, that is_) to enjoy the friendship that's forming between them.

And she doesn't think she'll ever stop loving the way he makes her laugh.

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A/N- Voila! ...Whoa, the segment on Ian kinda mutated on me... Must be 'cause I love him so. XD Thumbs up? Thumbs down? Ambivalent? Let me know either way! Ben will be coming up next! Thanks for reading! -OA


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